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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26867116">Worth of Water</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/miri_cleo/pseuds/Miri%20Cleo'>Miri Cleo (miri_cleo)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bad Dirty Talk, Dirty Talk, Flashbacks, M/M, Mentor/Protégé, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Older Man/Younger Man, POV Peter Parker, POV Tony Stark, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Underage, Porn with Feelings, Protective Peter Parker, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has Daddy Issues, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs Therapy, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Underage Drinking, Wakes &amp; Funerals</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:47:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,251</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26867116</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/miri_cleo/pseuds/Miri%20Cleo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It was hard for Peter to believe that Tony Stark wouldn't realize just how awful what he was saying was.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Obadiah Stane/Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>95</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Worth of Water</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Peter was working on dirty talk. Well, he was trying. The problem was that Tony was an absolute master <em>and</em> that he never shut up. There were times when Tony had Peter on edge just from his voice, where a whisper of breath across Peter's cock could make him explode. He didn't know if he would ever be able to do that to someone else, to make Tony come with his own voice. </p>
<p>Tonight it started with Tony's lips on his neck, teeth nipping the delicate skin with a promise that made Peter shiver. And then there was the low vibration of Tony's husky whisper.</p>
<p>"When I was your age…" Kiss and nip, teasing down to Peter's chest. "I was sleeping with my mentor too."</p>
<p>"Oh, y-yeah?" Peter managed, breath hitching. Obadiah Stane. Peter knew that's who it had to be. Regardless of what had happened between them in the end, that was Tony's mentor. </p>
<p>Peter pictured him--stern face only made more severe by the beard in contrast with his bald head. But he couldn't have always looked like that...except Peter couldn't imagine anything different. He remembered a picture, maybe a magazine cover where Stane had his hands on his hips. Peter closed his eyes, picturing them, how strong they looked. He shuddered thinking of them cupping Tony's balls just like Tony was doing to him now, gently, almost lazily. </p>
<p>"Mmhm," Tomy hummed against one of Peter's nipples before pulling it into his mouth, biting it playfully. "You like that?"</p>
<p>"Uh huh." Peter arched, wriggling, trying to encourage either Tony's hand up or his mouth down to his erection. "Tell me more." He knew he was blushing, but Tony's eyes lit. Peter knew he'd done well, and just knowing that...he had to swallow a moan. </p>
<p>"Well…" Tony settled closer next to Peter, their bodies so close it made Peter feel secure as much as it thrilled him. "I came out with...my fair share of bruises."</p>
<p>"B-bruises?" But Peter tried not to question that. He couldn't really focus on it because Tony's finger closed around his cock. Peter realized if he were different, if he weren't himself, there were times where he might have gone home with bruises. A shiver ran through his core at the thought of Tony's fingerprints marking him. </p>
<p>"I was a handful…" Tony stroked Peter lazily, in absolutely no hurry, and it became difficult for Peter to follow the thread of the tale Tony was weaving. His voice had taken on a darker quality, a husky and intense half whisper that Peter had never heard before. It was a meditation on debauchery that centered Peter in pleasure more than in the substance of the words. "...so much so that standing was preferable for the next few days."</p>
<p>Tony's laugh was more of a dark, short bark, and that pulled Peter back from the edge of orgasm. The flood of words replayed in his mind, understanding coming with them this time. "Stop...I mean, it's...Tony, stop." He put his hand over Tony's, finally closing his fingers around Tony's wrist to still him. Peter would have liked to have said his cock wilted, but his brain and his body were of two different minds. </p>
<p>Peter saw Tony's forehead wrinkle--an expression he'd seen before, though in the lab. It was Tony's reaction to something unexpected as much as perplexing. In this case, though, Peter couldn't fathom why Tony would be perplexed. He shook his head as if clearing it, trying to see if the concern clouding Tony's eyes wasn't a figment of his imagination. </p>
<p>"Did that...really happen?" It was all Peter could manage, and it sounded lame even to his own ears. The greater part of him hoped Tony was making it up. And Peter was glad that was the greater part because he was afraid of the small sliver of desire burning at the thought of it being real. </p>
<p>"I might be conflating a few details, but...more or less." Tony grinned and flicked the head of Peter's cock, making Peter shudder. "Mostly more."</p>
<p>"I don't…" Peter stopped and licked his lips. He wished he could understand why Tony wasn't understanding. It would be so much easier if they didn't have to actually...talk about what Tony had said. "You couldn't have actually...I mean, enjoyed that. With...I mean, with no lube." He felt like he was in seventh grade sex ed again with how stupidly hard it was to just say that. </p>
<p>Tony shrugged, and it would have been easy to get distracted by the way that single movement made the muscles in his shoulders ripple. "I was drunk enough to enjoy anything."</p>
<p>"Um…" Peter scrubbed at his cheeks. </p>
<p>"Kid," Tony said before pulling him into a kiss, "if you don't want to hear about my exploits, just tell me." There was no hurt, no malice in the way Tony said it. He was serious, slightly amused. And that only confused Peter more. </p>
<p>"I don't… Tony, I don't want to hear about you being raped."</p>
<p>"<em>Rape</em>?" The corners of Tony's eyes wrinkled as he chuckled, but it didn't quite fill his eyes. "Come on, Peter. That's not what it was. You have no idea what I was like back then."</p>
<p>"I don't care!" Peter grabbed a pillow and covered his lap as he sat criss-cross. He was embarrassed to have had such an outburst but more that he still had an erection that wasn't going anywhere because his cock very much did care what Tony was like when he was younger. "How could you think that was okay?"</p>
<p>"We did it all the time." The humor was disappearing from Tony's voice. </p>
<p>"That...doesn't make it better."</p>
<p>Tony ran his fingers through the back of his hair in what Peter knew was his expression of <em>oh boy</em>. Peter bit the inside of his cheek. His mind was moving too fast, and he knew if he started talking, he'd trip over his words. Not that he didn't trip over his words all the time with Tony--that was a near constant at this point. But Peter was also afraid he'd say the wrong thing. And there were so many wrong things to navigate. </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>The first time Tony was sixteen and glad to be away from the dorms for a weekend, even if it meant skulking around the Vineyard trying to avoid the range of anniversary festivities his mother had planned. Obie had shown up, shuttled him into the helicopter, and flown him out, which was the only reminder of the weekend plans Tony got aside from the, at least, seventeen messages his mother left. It wasn't seeing his parents that was the problem; it was everything else--how is school and what are you working on today and have you tacked on another degree to the ones you've already got going and all of that from people he barely knew. </p>
<p>Obie had pulled him away. He'd always understood how awkward Tony felt at these things. And he'd always been liberal about sharing his scotch. "Leave those fucks to your dad and let's have a real party."</p>
<p>That was a fixed moment, crystalized in memory, but everything afterward was hazy. Tony remembered Obie's eyes, icy blue, never leaving Tony's even when he unzipped Tony's pants. When he'd finished the handjob, leaving Tony a mess, that's when he'd taught Tony how to suck. That's when Tony learned to open his throat, to relax as it filled with Obie's cock and to swallow when he felt like he needed to puke. </p>
<p>And that was it. With the salty taste of Obie's come in his mouth and the warmth of the scotch making his body float, Tony had laid his hand in Obie's lap, and in his memory, Obie stared down with approval.</p>
<p>And it wasn't until later, after Tony's parents had died that Obie stopped using lube. The funeral was one of those formal, closed casket affairs. Obie identified the bodies. Obie gave the eulogies. All Tony had to do was show up, and Obie didn’t say he needed to do it sober. But as people paid their respects, Obie had kept one arm around Tony’s shoulders, protecting him from the wave of grief that threatened to break at any time. </p>
<p>Aftwards, once the house was clear and people had left casseroles or whatever they did in the movies after funerals, it was the familiar weight of Obie’s knee on the bed beside him that allowed Tony to break. </p>
<p>“It’s okay, Kiddo.” He felt Obie’s palm against the back of his neck, big fingers squeezing and kneading just a little too hard. “Let it out.”</p>
<p>The booze was blurring everything, including feelings, leaving blunt edges to a throbbing pain behind his eyes. And that pain flared at the slow sound of the teeth of Obie’s zipper coming apart. Tony drew in a breath to protest, to say that it wasn’t the time. But who was he to even think of protesting? He’d been wasted in one way or another since Obie broke the bad news. He obviously had no sense of appropriate boundaries. </p>
<p>Obie had done everything—the arrangements, the emergency board meeting, even writing the obituaries. And Tony knew that trying to push him off now would be beyond ungrateful. </p>
<p>“You need this—don’t you, Tony.” It wasn’t a question, but Tony sniffed. In response he felt Obie’s fingers tighten on his neck, breath hot against his ear as he whispered, “Don’t you?”</p>
<p>“Yeah…” Tony squeezed his eyes shut as he choked out, “Please.”</p>
<p>There has been something—a drink, pill maybe, or a prick on his arm. It was hard to remember. It was the rush of his own blood in his ears and the way the room spun as he found himself on top of Obie. The memory always flickered silently in his mind, but Tony could still taste his own scream at the feeling of Obie’s cock entering him dry. </p>
<p>Even in his desperation for the relief of Obie coming inside of him, Even in the haze of grief and booze, Tony managed to spill his come across Obie’s chest well before he knew he should have. So, instead of relief, he was left sore and bleeding when Obie pulled out. For the whimper he didn't remember making, Obie came on Tony’s face. </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>Instinct warred with empathy in Peter. He was horrified that someone could be so exacting a predator. He was horrified that the thought of Tony with come on his face sent a shiver of pleasure through him. The pillowcase against his cock was already damp with pre-come, and it made for an impossible distraction. </p>
<p>"I can't...I mean, that's a level of gaslighting that's lasted, like, almost thirty years.</p>
<p>"Sure, it was a little unconventional, but you gotta understand, Peter, I was--okay, still am to some degree--reckless."</p>
<p>"Did you want it?" Peter blurted, and he watched Tony blink slowly like a cat who is just waking up. </p>
<p>"Sure, why not? Why does it even matter?" His voice was flat. "As far as I remember I came every time."</p>
<p>"You...you can't help what your body… Did you even have basic sex ed?"</p>
<p>The smile, no smirk, was back, and Tony wiggled his eyebrows as he reached for the pillow in Peter's lap. "Oh, it was way more than basic."</p>
<p>"Tony!" Peter grabbed the pillow back, but Tony was on him, pressing the pillow between their hips and kissing Peter's neck, making him squirm. It would be easy to let it go. Tony had carried this for so long, and it was difficult to see how it ate at him slowly. But Peter knew Tony. He knew when the smile didn't reach Tony's core and when the humor was his last resort. Tony <em>wanted</em> him to let it go, and Peter took a healthy amount of pleasure in doing everything Tony wanted. </p>
<p>But Peer knew his own guilt would worm his way through his psyche until he couldn't take it anymore. He and Tony had experimented with his enhanced strength during sex, but Peter had never used it on Tony without consent. He did now by flipping them over and pinning Tony beneath him, arms above his head. He instantly knew it was the wrong move because instead of talking, he wanted to be inside of Tony. But Peter took a centering breath. </p>
<p>"I love you, and...because I love you, I can't…" He cleared his throat. "I'm not doing this tonight. Not after that. I can't force you to deal with any of this but oh my god, Tony… Maybe you enjoyed some of it or maybe he just brainwashed you into thinking you did, but it was still rape. I mean, you couldn't even consent. I can't…" Peter shook his head and slid off of Tony. </p>
<p>He couldn't stay there because his resolve wouldn't hold. He couldn't continue then because he knew he'd hate himself for enjoying it. </p>
<p>"I'm gonna sleep in the guest room. Can you...just try to think about what I said?"</p>
<p>"If that's what you need, Kid."</p>
<p>Peter squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed all of the at least five things he wanted to say. If Tony did it because it's what Peter wanted, at least it was a start. And in the meantime, Peter would be jacking off in the guest bathroom hating himself for the things he was thinking about.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you, GlassesOfJustice, as always, for excellent beta work. </p>
<p>To the rest of you, and you know who you are, take your fic. Go on, take it.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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